TAGS/CW: possessive yoongi / agustd! era / blood / mention of extreme violence and minor character death / he's either obsessed or a yandere take your pick
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biscotti num.8 (probably???)
spider lily - NAMGI
HE'S smoking again.
The cigarette (no babe, a blunt actually) sits languidly in his left hand; the shiny metal pistol in his right.
He seems calm, too calm - almost tranquil and detached from what's happening, just bare-faced emotionless to say the least. Yet his hands both tremble from the boost of adrenaline still having the few traces of it run through his blood.
Yoongi sighed, a bit shakily, towards Namjoon who was still on the ground, clutching his arm, staring at the body on the ground.
Or rather, the remains of what used to be a body on the floor. The baseball bat Minjun used to play his games with lay beside him; coated in blood and few bits of skin and muscle practically stuck on it. Namjoon thinks he sees some brain matter and he has to force himself not to throw up.
"This is really disappointing babe." Yoongi sighed again, raising his legs and placing them onto the bar stool next to him, taking a hit of his blunt and exhaling slowly. "I was so eager to come back home, to come back to my baby and be with you again, only to find out you've left me to go fuck some worthless scum. And marry him, cause you just love pissing me off, don't you baby?"
The blood that wasn't plastered all over the room was over him; smeared over him like cherry jam. The pistol still has a few wisps of smoke coming off the chamber, the metal warm in his grip. The man on the floor wasn't shot with this gun, oh no, to Yoongi, he does not deserve the luxury. In this case, he deserved skin contact - fists pummeling down unto him and a baseball raining down hits on him until he couldn't move or even breathe.
Namjoon deserved to get shot for this major misdeed if you will - marrying a man while Yoongi was in jail, a man who did not even give him half of the luxuries Yoongi promised to the taller, not even close; he deserved a bullet to the arm for that and his thigh. A mere reminder for the pain and grief that he caused him, and that Namjoon was his and his alone. Body, soul and mind, it was practically branded by Yoongi.
The black cleaning uniform that he wore as a disguise was splattered with blood, his face mask was pulled down, latex disposable gloves and cap haphazardly thrown unto the kitchen island. Blunt in his fingers as he exhaled out through his nostrils - looking exactly like a dragon, one that was predatory and was staring at Namjoon with an abundance of emotions.
Namjoon was sat down on the floor, in disarray and a mess. Tear tracks were dried unto his face and a few splotches of blood was on his face and body, the smell of it making him gag. He was gripping his left arm tightly, streams of blood was flowing down and staining his clothes and skin. Namjoon's right thigh was in the same predicament - he was in pain, it was unbearable, he couldn't even find the strength in his body to move.
He wasn't even sure if Minjun was breathing. His husband got assaulted by a man with nothing but pure madness in his eyes – if he wasn't beat to death, then the lack of consciousness was a mere blessing.
"I promised to give you everything. Books of any and every topic, jewels, gold, clothes, sex, alcohol, everything. And all you had to do was wait for me to get out of jail, we could've had such a great start to a brand new life. But now look."
Yoongi gestures at the whole living room, covered in blood and stuff smashed, broken shards of glass; Minjun on the floor with his broken fingers and broken ribs and battered face. Namjoon bleeding out.
Yoongi flicked away some of the ashes on the blunt; dull grey ash falling down onto the floor, some purposely falling onto Minjun's battered body. As if he was just nothing but a mere ashtray.
"He probably treated you like shit. This godawful house is proof of that." Yoongi drawled, his deep voice ragged and husky - guarded and gritty from his years in jail.
The scar on his face looked healed yet freshly red. The disguise was tight around his arms and legs, he always had muscular biceps but now he looked stronger than ever as if that was possible. His charcoal hair was long enough to graze his cheekbones and ears but yet it couldn't cover the malicious gaze in Yoongi's eyes.
"I haven't touched you in years baby. Yet from what I can tell, it seems to be the same for you." He sighed, stretching his neck, satisfied at the sound of pops and cracks. "Minjun over here looks like he can't even get it up, let alone fuck your sweet ass good." Yoongi deeply chuckled, reaching an arm out to ash his blunt over Minjun's body on the floor.
Namjoon felt like he was underwater, the room felt heavy with tension and Yoongi's voice was focusing in and out his mind like it was travelling to his ears at different times. All he could see in front of him was Minjun, his sweet lover Minjun, on the floor and looked unrecognisable from the assault.
The few guards that they had were stabbed and shot at point blank range - pistols affixed with silencers so there was no noise beside the sound of skin and bone breaking, painful grunts and muffled screams. Ironically enough, Yoongi’s gun has no silencer but Namjoon doesn't really think the neighbours would notice anything or even care.
The pain from the bullets felt scalding hot as if he was being pushed into a vat of liquid metal in a furnace. Boiled from the inside out; sweat and dried and new blood sticking to him like glue. Every time he tried to move, he felt a piercing shock go through his body.
Looking up, Namjoon almost blacked out. Yoongi was in front on him, settled into a crouch, head tilted with a few strands of his hair falling in place. The gun was now much closer to him than it ever has been and he can now see the murderous intent and affection in Yoongi's eyes clear as day.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take you to our new home, and then I'll give you all the luxuries that you wanted before that fucker came between us."
Namjoon felt a hand gently push his head towards Yoongi, their lips interlocking in a kiss that made Namjoon feel sick to his stomach. Breaking apart from the kiss, Yoongi licked his lips, winked at him and raised from his crouch.
Just as he stood, a small group of men with guns galore walked towards him.
The one with the ak-47 spoke up. "Sir there seems to be no one else here. All the staff and the parents seem to have left before we came here, sir." Bowing to Yoongi as he nodded at the group.
"Put him in the van, I have plans for this one." Kicking Minjun in the ribs, he glanced at Namjoon on the floor, who was becoming weak and delirious with pain.
"You're coming home with me, precious." He softly cooed at Namjoon, seemingly uncaring about the blood he splattered and the bodies he killed to get here.
